With 83 years of history, the Hsinchu Zoo, Taiwan’s oldest zoo to continuously operate at the same location, reopened on December 28. No longer bordered by concrete walls and cordoned off by metal railings, the reborn Hsinchu Zoo uses moats, shrubbery, and green fences to divide space. As a result, the few cages on the premises in the eco wetlands and habitats are now actually for people! Within the grounds, professional theory is practiced, passion radiates from a Japanese staff member, and lost childhood dreams are rediscovered. Could it change the way you think about zoos?

Inside the former aviary deliberately left after the renovation, Hsinchu Zoo director Yang Chia-min clings to a net for children to climb on. Flamingos and waterfowl reside outside the cage, before the herbivore section of the zoo. (Photo by Chien-Ying Chiu/CW)

Lulu, a 32-year-old senior citizen hippopotamus, is busy setting up her new home.

Lulu “married” into the Hsinchu Zoo 27 years ago from the Taipei Zoo in Muzha. Bright and docile, she has always been a star attraction of the Hsinchu Zoo. However, encircled by wrought iron fencing, she lived a caged life devoid of the trappings befitting her star status.

That is, until the zoo rebirth project came to fruition, calling for a full refurbishment projected to cost NT$600 million and encompass the surrounding Hsinchu Park, Century Boulevard, Hsinchu Glass Museum, and Lichih Pond. Lulu would finally have the new home she had been longing for the better part of her long life.

                               

When the work first started, she was so upset that she ate nary a bite for three whole days. She scrambled to take cover at the sound of the bulldozers starting up, watching alertly with her eyes darting back and forth.

Slowly but surely, Lulu noticed that her favorite pool had gotten larger and deeper, and all that was left of the stone shore perimeter was a row of wrought iron pillars and bamboo palms, creating a distinct open and airy atmosphere. And rather than being directed at penning her in, the low fencing was conceived to keep people out. Just before finishing their shifts, workers loved to sally up close to the new moat and call out loudly, “Lulu, Lulu!” as if they could just reach out and touch her.

Lulu, a 32 year-old hippo, strolls about in her new, more spacious home environs. (Photo by Chi-mei Tsai)

Like a Work Foreman 

“She watched the whole time while workers bundled rebar, as if she were a work foreman,” describes Hsinchu Zoo director Yang Chia-min.

Hsinchu Zoo Director Yang Chia-min poses for a photo with Lulu the Hippo in the background. (Photo by Chi-mei Tsai)

The Hsinchu City Zoo was closed in May of 2017 for renovations. After two and a half years of renovations, the 83-year-old zoo reopened on December 28, 2019.

Established during the Japanese period (1895-1945), along with the Taipei Zoo in Muzha and the Kaohsiung Zoo in Shoushan, the Hsinchu Zoo is one of only three public zoos in Taiwan. Occupying just 2.7 hectares of land, it is just one-sixtieth the size of the Taipei Zoo.

“Three generations of Hsinchu residents are emotionally bonded to this place,” relates Yang Chia-min. The sculpted elephants and lions atop the granitoid pillars at the gate are reminders of the zoo’s history.

The main entrance of the old Hsinchu Zoo (Source: Hsinchu City Government)

In the effort to restore the appearance of the first-generation architectural features dating back to 1936, including the elephants, lions, and fountain, the zoo tried collecting old photographs. Unfortunately, the large volume of pictures the public submitted from their stores of personal memorabilia were all black and white, and were therefore of limited help as an accurate reference.

Architect Chiu Wen-chieh, whose credo is “restore the old in the old way,” sought out the old master artisan who oversaw the restoration of the Taipei Guest House. Using solvent that was harmless to the statues, layer after layer of paint was stripped away - 13 in total - before ascertaining that the base layer applied over the anti-corrosive layer was green paint. “A lot of architecture from that period was painted green, perhaps as camouflage from air strikes in the period following World War One,” observes Chiu. 

Chiu Wen-chieh, architect of the revitalized Hsinchu Zoo (Photo by Chien-Tong Wang/CW)

Giving Back - Cub, Elephant, and Giraffe Donations

The 1950s and ‘60s were the Hsinchu City Zoo’s halcyon days.

At that time, donating “imported” animals was considered one way to give back to the community. And there was no more enthusiastic a donor than Ho Kuo-hua, a businessman who had achieved considerable success in Japan and was the founder of the Cathay Golf Course in Tamsui. Starting with the first Hokkaido bear cub, which caused a sensation, he went on to donate an elephant and a giraffe to the Hsinchu Zoo. Today, a memorial still stands at the zoo in his honor.

However, space was lacking, and the buildings fell into disrepair. The desperate effort to gain a star attraction led to the acquisition of Lulu, the hippo that was not the only animal forced to endure the threadbare environs.

“Every animal suffered from depression, constantly circling around the cage, under such poor conditions,” describes Chiu Wen-chieh. This led the architect to approach design from the animals’ needs rather than those of visitors, making reduction and openness the guiding principles for the zoo rebirth project.

Reduction and openness are two sides of the same coin. When objects and scenes are reduced, space and spirit can be brought out.

The compact Hsinchu Zoo follows the small undulations of its hillside setting, presenting varied features. Before the zoo’s closing for renovations, it was home to 70 species of wild animals. This was reduced to 44 species under the rebirth project. “Most of the reduction in species were birds, with endemic Taiwanese species set free in the wild, while those that couldn’t be rewilded were resettled in other zoos,” explains Director Yang.

Architect’s Dream: A Zoo Made for the Animals

With the birds having flown the coop, cages could be eliminated. Of the two remaining aviaries, one became a passageway all visitors go through from the zoo entrance, imparting life lessons. According to the architect, this is intentional so that “people can know how to feels to be in captivity.” The other remaining aviary has been repurposed as a vegetable garden as well as for stocking butterflies and frogs.

Under architect Chiu Wen-chieh’s design, animals are no longer held in the old bird cages. (Source: Hsinchu City Government)

“With no more concrete walls and metal railings, instead using moats, shrubbery, and green fences to partition space, it becomes an ecological wetlands and habitat,” says chief architect Chiu Wen-chieh.

The September 21 Earthquake Education Park and the paper dome in Puli are two of Chiu’s most famous works. The first public architecture he devoted himself to after returning to Taiwan from the United States in 1999 was the Heart of Hsinchu East Gate Plaza project.

From the Heart of Hsinchu to the Hsinchu Zoo, it is all the result of Chiu’s 20 years in the profession. Reflecting, Chiu says, “I’ve achieved my goals.” He believes that, beyond the zoo facilities revitalization, the mission invested in him by the city government team represented a conceptual sea change and revolution for zoos.

“I have a dream that one day, all the animal pens here will be gone. All it would take would be to replace them with regenerated soil to create a large grassy field; it would be more citizen-based, more urban… when you enter the park you happen to encounter animals, and experience traces left by the animals’ lives,” says Chiu.

For instance, no actual elephants remain in the elephant pavilion. However, the former home of the elephant “Lingzi” from 20 years ago has been preserved, and one day his story will be told using augmented reality (AR) technology.

Although no elephants inhabit the Elephant Pavilion in the newly renovated zoo, AR technology will bring the story of former resident Lingzi back to life. (Photo by Chi-mei Tsai)

The tawny fish owl, Big Ears, is another example. Thirty years ago, Big Ears flew head-on into the Hsinchu Transit building, and was sent to Hsinchu Zoo to recover and convalesce from his injuries. Sadly, Big Ears would not live to enjoy his new home, having passed away a year before the zoo was closed for construction. However, preserved by taxidermy, Big Ears has continued to “live on” by the elephant head fountain he loved so much during his life.

When it comes to preserving imagery and historical iconography, the trailblazer among the owl family highlights the public nature of zoos. “I think of building zoos as a ‘necessary evil,’ a transitional stage for housing those older animals like hippos and tigers, since mainstream animal conservation has long discouraged placing animals in captivity,” reflects Chiu.

Architectural design model for the Hsinchu Zoo Rebirth Project (Photo by Chien-Tong Wang/CW)

Veterinarian Director’s Dream: Injured Animal Rescue Sanctuary

Building a zoo where animals are respected is a collective consciousness, and the formulation of the Hsinchu Zoo Rebirth Project was elevated to the level of a major city project.

Coordination of practical issues for the project was overseen by Chen Chang-hsien, secretary-general of the Hsinchu City Government. Architectural design and the general philosophical approach of the project were arbitrated by Wang Chun-hsiung, city government adviser and associate professor of architecture at Shih Chien University. Decisions were finalized by Hsinchu Mayor Lin Chih-chien.

Once the zoo was opened and visitors began pouring in, the zoo’s total capacity would be around 3,000 people, which could precipitate a myriad of unforeseen circumstances, so that the balance between architectural aesthetics and safety, and tensions between life education and animal conservation would surface in every corner of the zoo.

The observation windows on either side of the Wild Beast Zone corridor were the result of just such a compromise. Behind reinforced glass, visitors can “spy on” animals from close up, “so children can absorb animal conservation knowledge, and the animals get more privacy,” explains Yang Chia-min.

Children can observe animals close up through viewing windows without being too obtrusive. (Photo by Chi-mei Tsai)

After undergoing multiple revisions, the very day the design for Monkey Island was set for approval, a Taiwan macaque grabbed the electrified fence and swung his way high up into a tree, where he remained, making humanity’s best efforts to prevent escape into monkey business. What would happen if a monkey were to get out after the zoo opened?

“As the zoo director, it’s my responsibility. The threat from a monkey escape is minimal, but if it were a tiger, there would be no room for compromise,” says Director Yang. The new design could be damaged by animals tomorrow, or deemed unfit for their welfare. Truly, no zoo can ever be “finished.”

It turns out that Yang Chia-min has a dream. Prior to his transfer to Hsinchu, he had worked as a public sector veterinarian, and had also done animal quarantine work for Customs in Keelung.

“If one day this could become a rescue sanctuary for injured wild animals, and all the animals came due to injuries and conservation, it would fulfill the objectives of establishing a zoo,” says Yang.

Despite its small size, the Hsinchu Zoo displays ambition of a different kind. (Source: Hsinchu City Government)

A Mysterious Place, A Joyous Paradise for Children

A little over two years ago, Okamoto Yumiko (Yumi), a former researcher at the Ueno Zoo in Japan, sent a letter to Lin Chih-chien recommending herself for a job in Hsinchu as an animal nutritionist and environmental educator.

Like Lin Chih-chien, who had grown up hearing the roar of lions and the cackles of gibbons, Yumi, now 28, had spent her childhood around animals. She has found that there are few differences in zoo management approaches between Taiwan and Japan, saying “safety comes first. Every effort is oriented toward the welfare and conservation of the animals.”

Yumi is to Hsinchu as the Hsinchu Zoo is to Taiwan: Both are exceptions.

Hsinchu boasts a high level of educational achievement and a high proportion of young families. Such factors contribute to the opportunity for the only public zoo outside of Taiwan’s six cities and municipalities under central government jurisdiction to promote innovative policies and lead the way with avant garde zoo experiments.

If one day visitors buying a ticket to this zoo, which has not housed such marquee animals as elephants and giraffes for nearly 20 years, are no longer just interested in what animals they can view, perhaps that will be the moment at which the zoo revolution has found success.

【More on Hsinchu】
♦ Tea, Camphor Laurel, and Sugar Cane
♦ HsinPu Persimmons, Golden Pearls of Wisdom
♦ Embracing the Green Shores of Hsinchu County

【More on wildlife conservation in Taiwan】
♦ Taiwan's Global Noah’s Ark of Plants
♦ Wildlife Repatriating - Taiwan, Once Dubbed as 'Diewan', Has Come a Long Way
♦ Eleven Years on the Mountain: Hunting the Elusive Formosan Black Bear

Translated by David Toman
Edited by TC Lin, Sharon Tseng